


In Darkness

by Kat2107



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: BDSM scene non-negotiated between long time lovers - be warned, Dubious Consent, M/M, PWP, when your boyfriend is a sex god assassin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-01-14
Packaged: 2018-03-07 13:31:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3174984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat2107/pseuds/Kat2107
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They sometimes spend weeks apart. The Warden busy being the Commander. Zevran busy avoiding the crows, following leads, hunting people.<br/>Sometimes bad things happen. Sometimes one of them needs to do bad things, things worse than murder.<br/>Things that amount to betrayal.<br/>Sometimes one of them needs to assure himself of the other's trust, devotion and love ... or is plain horny.<br/>That´s usually Zevran.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea.  
> It was lunch break and I wanted smut. 
> 
> Might give the impression of non-con, so beware.
> 
> No, I don´t know where the BDSM came from. I only know that Zevran probably knows and has done literally everything that is there to know and do when it comes to sex and shies away from very little, except truly hurting his Warden.  
> And he very much can not resist the temptation to see if he can sneak into a Grey Warden keep.  
> It´s ZEVRAN, maker´s hairy eyebrows.

It´s the sound of a dagger unsheathed that wakes him.

Just in time to move out of the way. Not soon enough to avoid the hands that follow the deep "thunk" it makes as it buries itself in the headboard.

In the darkness of the bedroom, drapes drawn shut to keep out the moonlight, the Warden Stronghold all asleep, there is no seeing the intruder, only a pair of strong hands that grab his arms and turn him, deftly, onto his stomach.

He tries kicking, elicits a pained grunt, as he hits the other´s thigh. Male, not very tall, but agile, dammit.

They´re pretty even in strength, maybe even in ability, but with the disadvantage of being caught unawares, he´s not much of a match.

A body, leather clad, presses down on his, a leathery rope forced around his wrists, securing his arms uncomfortably behind his back. The intruder is nimble, working with one hand, closing the other around the sleepers neck, fingers digging into skin, restricting the air just enough to make him shudder.

Lips, warm and full, accompanied by a dark growl, trail along the pointed tips of the Warden´s ears. Then teeth snap, close around the skin with a sharp hint of pain, followed by the tip of a tongue, licking it better.

Buckles and leather strips bite into the skin of his naked back and legs, fine pinpricks of pain all over.

A thigh is shoved between his, knee pressed snugly against his crotch.

He´s hard, his cock uncaring for blindness or the pain that settles deeper into his arms by the minute. He feels the intruders cock, despite the leather he wears, against the cheeks of his ass.

"I will have you tonight. I will take you." the lips, the tongue, trail down his neck, end in a sharp nip. "Until you beg, Warden Commander."

He can´t answer, the hand around his throat making sound virtually impossible. Thrashing, trying to turn might be an option - one that comes with dislocated shoulders or broken necks. So, he lies still, acquiescing for the sake of survival instinct.

A soft purr in his ear is the reward.

The man stands, leaving his victim on the bed. Naked, exposed, shivering in the faint cold of the winter that seeps into the room, the mountains outside still and white, silent guardians wrapping them in ice.

A piece of armor hits the floor behind him with a heavy thud, followed by the lighter sound of gloves, the metallic ring of a belt.

The elf´s breath quickens and then the hands are back, a body sliding over his. A hand, heavy and warm between his shoulder blades pushes him down. The other, no less warm, fingers covered in oil, slips between the cheeks of his ass unceremoniously. The intruder is not wasting time, pushes a finger inside the the other´s body, not giving him time to truly prepare. Deep, demanding, yet not ungentle.

The Warden moans, how can he not, when this finger so deftly hits the spot that sets his body ablaze. His body knows what it wants. It knows how to get it and who it will be to gift it.

There is a faint hint of pain as a second finger joins, sliding deep into his ass, probing, caressing. It´s been a while. Too long.

A non-committal hum follows that discovery, then teeth graze over the skin of his back, a bite, first soft, then more painful that has him hiss with pain. He barely registers the fingers pushing deeper, scissoring, moving past the pain with experienced knowledge. He barely notices how the pain vanishes before the hungry haze of arousal fogs his mind.

"Open!" A silent command and he complies, the need to give his painfully erect cock more room a driving force.

He needs....

"Ah... eager, aren´t we?"

The fingers a steady movement inside him, slow, yet unyielding. The other hand grabs the restraints, just before the third finger pushes into him, a counterweight that leaves the Warden helplessly exposed to the the administrations of the dark figure above him, his body yielding to the pleasure just as his cock strains against the bedding below him.

He needs....

His tongue flicks over his lips, desperately searching for something that should be there. A counterpart sorely missing.

He whimpers.

The fingers retreat and he whines behind closed lips, as close to begging as he will ever get.

The sound of the heavy weapon´s belt being open is a promise. The feeling of the slap, of leather forcing a painful trail across his thigh, a rush.

He shifts anxiously, face pressed into the bed. Not enough breath. He gasps for air as both hands settle on the cheeks of his ass, pull them apart, exposing them. Opening him up for the other´s cock.

The push is arduously slow. More torture as the blunt tip breaches him open, a harsh curse slipping over the lips of the man who takes him. A little pain, barely any.

He needs this and he needs it faster.

"Please.." it slips free at last and the man stills, breath loud and harsh in the darkness, then he slides into him with a growl and settles deep. His cock, the friction, how it slides against this one spot that always renders him helpless near perfect.

He chokes at it, his moan reverberating loudly.

And the man who takes him starts to move. Slow at first, drawing out each movement to almost endless teasing. He shifts forward, spread along his captives back, teeth nipping on skin, tongue stroking it all better.

"I can feel you shiver, Warden.”

A hand sneaks around his throat again, holds him close, his air flow controlled with the skill of a master.

And then his captor starts to fuck him in earnest.

Deep, powerful strokes that have the bed rock against the ground. Hard grunts, spelled by hot breath on the Warden´s skin, the sound filling his ears.

He tries to get closer - impossible as it is. He tries to spur the other man on - futile, that bastard is not swayed by anything.

"So beautiful, your desperation." The laughter is dark, deep, breathless and a touch evil, as teeth nip at the Warden´s ear. "Beautiful, as all of you."

"Please."  He gathers his breath and then, with more calm, more emphasis repeats. "Please."

The other pulls back, but without time for the Warden to regret it, grabs the man on the bed and flips him on his back.

He pushes under his legs and without fuss takes him again, deep, hard.

The Warden looks up now. In the darkness, he finally sees the face that his sleep addled brain had not allowed him to discern either.

Blond hair, tousled by wind and extortion sticking to perfectly bronzed skin, full lips pulled into a crooked grin, glistening wet in the darkness as the tip of a tongue strokes over them, as if searching for something. Dark eyes shimmering, black markings on that skin perfect shadows. A creature, as magnificent as he is deadly. A predator unguarded.

The skin on his shoulder drawn taut over muscles as he rocks inside the Warden, one hand holding him in place, the other settling heavily over his cock.

And then the thrusts start again. It takes the man on the bed mere seconds to fall completely, the pain in his arm barely dousing his lust, mostly spurring it on. He feels the callouses on fingers that have handled deadly weapons all their life. He smells the faint acid of poison clinging to the man who takes him. The startlingly bright hair a halo in the dark, the only thing he sees through half closed eyes.

"Come for me, my dear Warden."

It´s not quite an order. It´s a request, presented in the same gravely voice that sometimes, deep in the night when one of them screams awake from a nightmare, states "I´m yours" in that that softly lilting accent.

He sees no more. In the last second a hand over his mouth silences his scream as his back bows, lifting his body off the bed, his legs lock around the shoulders of the man above him. His ass clenches around the cock inside him.

He feels the other come, his own orgasm not yet abated. Hears him choke out his name with a desperation, never understood by those who don’t know him like the Warden does.

 

Their breaths mingle as they lay - tangled limbs, sweat-soaked sheets, sticky cum - on the bed, staring at each other.

Nimble fingers release the bindings, massage gently over skin red and raw.

"Hello Zevran.” He can´t help but smile. “I missed you."

The Antivan´s face pulls into something that looks a lot like the love child of the biggest shit eating grin in probably all of Thedas and the most tender smile imaginable.

"I apologize, my dear Warden, for taking so long. There were...hold ups"

Their lips meet, now finally allowing the Warden to find the counterpoint he was so desperately searching for. Wet, soft, gentle, words, whole worlds of words, unspoken.

"And it seems, I must protest the security of your keep."

At this the Warden laughs, hands reaching out to touch a new scar, still red and angry, on the other elf´s shoulder.

"You know, you are the only one I don´t wake up to, when they try to enter my bedroom."

He´s sore, the welt on his thigh still stinging. He´s strangely content, though.

All is well, he thinks, as his lips touch the scar. He´s here. He´s finally home.

It doesn’t matter how close the crows got this time.

Zevran made it home.

"Because you belong here."

  
  
  



End file.
